


Across the Universe

by amusewithaview



Category: Firefly, Serenity (2005), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Captain!Allison, Companion!Jackson, Danny is zen, Derek's Still a Werewolf, Mechanic!Stiles, Pilot!Scott, River Is a Precog, We Still Aren't Sure What Lydia Is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-02
Updated: 2012-05-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 17:41:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusewithaview/pseuds/amusewithaview
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott grins, “Stiles found a Firefly.”</p><p>“They're these old-style ships from before the Wars, they'll stay in the sky forever if you have an even halfway decent mechanic and they're some of the fastest non-military models from that era.  They're... they're freaking <i>sweet</i> and one <i>finally</i> came into the 'yard today and, well,” Stiles takes a deep breath and moves in front of Allison, clasping both her hands in his and looking deeply into her eyes, as serious as he can be with all this adrenaline running through him, and asks: “Allison Michelle Argent, would you do me the honor of being my Captain?”</p><p>...</p><p>A brief snapshot of the Teen Wolf characters in the Firefly universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Across the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> Based (VERY LOOSELY) off a prompt on the kinkmeme:
> 
>  
> 
> **I have a really urgent need for a Firefly AU.**
> 
> **Though not a copy/paste of the Firefly plotline, please. Just them in the 'Verse.**
> 
> **I'm thinking Stiles is the pilot (or engineer, yeah greesemonkey Stiles who sleeps next to the engines, that sounds awesome).**
> 
> **Derek is a Browncoat/captain.**
> 
> **cast the rest however you want. I just really really want some shiny ficcage.**
> 
>  
> 
> I took liberties, like, a lot. Hopefully, it's still good. Will be drabbles posted when-written. I have a (very, very) loose plot sort of figured out... but it'll probably be a lot of Teen Wolf characters floating around in space and occasionally running into Firefly characters (and evil Alliance-types).

He sits with his back against the wall, his elbows balanced loosely on his raised knees and his head hanging down. It's the most comfortable position possible in his cell, and this corner in particular is the only place where he can hear _her_ , although he's pretty sure she can hear him no matter where she is – it's not like she's listening with her _ears_. She's muttering to herself again. Her ramblings don't make much sense, today. The periods of lucidity are getting shorter, too – but he doesn't think that she's going crazy (or, well, _crazier_ ).

He's pretty sure that she's saving up her sane times. Something big must be in the works.

“I'll find my serenity,” he hears her whisper. “Even sour dogs have their day.” She's moving along the wall of her cell, it sounds like she's coming closer, though he can't be sure how far away she is – the acoustics in this place are designed to disorient his kind. She scratches the wall one, two, three – seven times and giggles, “Simon says: see you on the other side.”

Derek smiles.

…..

The woman is absolutely beautiful, but that's not terribly uncommon this close to the core of the allied planets, where the rich work (rarely) and play (often). Still, there's something about her that makes Jackson pay closer attention, sitting up a little straighter while he watches her progress around the room. He can't quite put his finger on it... there's just a certain _something_. She's confident in a way he's never seen but somehow wants: it's in the way that she moves, the way she looks each of them in the face, the respect she gave their teacher and demanded in return by her sheer _attitude_.

Her eyes meet his suddenly: vividly green and with an intensity of focus that makes him want to squirm. He feels inexplicably naked, like his soul's been laid out before her for judgement. It's not a particularly pleasant feeling and he _knows_ with embarrassing certainty that there's a flush crawling up his neck and onto his cheeks.

Abruptly, the woman smiles and it transforms her face from _beautiful_ to dazzling.

“This one,” she says, turning to the teacher, “this one has potential.” She turns back to Jackson and again, the sheer strength of her regard is near dizzying. “Tell me, boy – what do you know of Companions?”

…..

Lydia is no ordinary girl.

She goes to all the best schools, has all the best things, because she _is_ the best. Her parents tell her so each and every day.

When Lydia is twelve, special men come to take her to a special school.

At first, she is excited.

They're excited, too. Lydia is _very_ special, she'll go into the advanced program with the other extra-special girls.

They have plans for her extra-special brain and her exemplary genetics.

Plans that involve words like _splice_ and _coding_ and _involuntary infection_ and _G-23_.

Lydia discovers that special girls scream just like ordinary ones.

Until they do something to her that makes her outsides just as special as her insides.

…..

Danny looks up at the stars and he knows his time at the temple is nearly over. He's soaked up all that they can teach him, everything he wanted when he came here and everything he didn't know he needed. He's not sure if he's ready to make his way outside of the complex, but he can feel _something_ pulling him out into the black.

An imbalance, perhaps. One that he is meant to help correct.

Whatever it is, he knows that it's almost time. He'll start making preparations tomorrow.

…..

Stiles bursts into the apartment, ignoring the gun that Allison has pointing at him as soon as he's through the door (it's a reflex, he knows, he can't take offense at a reflex) and grabs Scott's arm, shaking it. He's too out of breath to actually say anything coherent, and he knows that what's actually coming out of his mouth is more wheeze than word, but he can't help his exuberance. It's _finally happening_.

“Whoa, dude – breathe, _then_ talk.” Scott smiles at him lopsidedly, of course, all of his smiles are lopsided, now. The scar that runs from his ear to the center of his chin is from a wound that cut clear through his cheek and took a few teeth with it. It doesn't mess with his speech much, but then Scott was never quite as vocal as Stiles anyways. Scott's still watching him carefully, “Can you talk yet?”

“Yeah... sorry, man.” Stiles takes a deep breath, “I got one.”

“One what?” Allison asks, holstering her gun and shutting the door Stiles left wide open.

Scott, having grown up with Stiles, knows exactly what he's talking about. His eyes are wide and he's starting to get almost as excited, “Seriously? When? What kind of condition is it in? Do you think you can fix her? Oh my _god_ , Stiles!”

“Seriously, just came in today. She's pretty roughed up but, c'mon, there's no way I'm letting that stop me. I just need to know,” he stares at his best friend in all the world, the only family he's got left, “if I can fix her... can you, _will you_ , fly her for me?”

Scott blinks at him like it's the stupidest question he's ever heard, “Of course.”

“Guys?”

Both their heads immediately swivel towards Allison.

She's smiling, that weird sort of indulgent smile she gets when they're like this (which is... kind of all the time. Allison is super awesome and Stiles is sort of amazed that she 1. came into their lives and 2. is capable of putting up with them both, especially Scott). She quirks a brow, “Mind letting me in on the plan?”

Scott grins, “Stiles found a Firefly.”

“They're these old-style ships from before the Wars, they'll stay in the sky forever if you have an even halfway decent mechanic and they're some of the fastest non-military models from that era. They're... they're freaking _sweet_ and one _finally_ came into the 'yard today and, well,” Stiles takes a deep breath and moves in front of Allison, clasping both her hands in his and looking deeply into her eyes, as serious as he can be with all this adrenaline running through him, and asks: “Allison Michelle Argent, would you do me the honor of being my Captain?”

She stares at him, “Let me get this straight: you bought a ship -”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you're going to fix it up.”

“Yes.”

“And Scott's going to fly it.”

“With you so far.”

“And you want me to be the Captain?”

Stiles shuffles on his feet a little, “I'm mech-guy, not orders-man. And Scott's gotta fly the thing. Not that you're a default choice! You're all grrr and argh and warrior-gal and I am many things, many _awesome_ things, but intimidating is not on that list. It is noticeably absent from the list of all that is awesome about me, but it's one of your most admirable qualities.”

Allison grins at him: “As if I'd let you two knuckleheads leave this planet without me.”


End file.
